


A Port Clinton Christmas

by yourebrilliant



Series: Port Clinton 'Verse [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Beach Vacation, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, new directions holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set five years after A Minor Musical Mutiny, the New Directions "family" are gathering at Kurt and Blaine's house for the first time and Kurt will accept nothing less than a perfect Christmas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

‘Blaine!’ The urgent whisper, and accompanying jostling of the mattress, roused Blaine from a gentle slumber. He opened his eyes to find Kurt leaning over him, smiling with an infectious, if slightly maniacal, excitement.

‘Morning,’ Blaine murmured, smiling in response.

‘Morning!’ Kurt replied brightly, and leant closer to give Blaine an exuberant kiss.

Blaine laughed quietly. ‘What’s got you all wired this morning?’ he asked.

‘It’s time,’ Kurt said dramatically, ‘to get ready for Christmas!’ He bounced off the bed, and strode from the room.

Blaine lay there for another moment, staring with bemusement at the bright sunshine streaming into their attic bedroom and wondering if he had managed to sleep through three whole months. Eventually, he climbed out of bed, ran a hand through his sleep-tousled curls, and padded after his absent fiancée.  
~*~*~  
He found Kurt in the kitchen; he had already filled the coffee machine with water and was slicing freshly-washed peaches as he waited for it to boil.

‘Kurt?’ Blaine said, fetching two glass bowls and setting them beside the chopping board.

‘Hmm?’ Kurt continued to slice the peaches without looking up, but did raise his eyebrows in acknowledgement of Blaine’s questioning tone.

‘What month is it?’ Blaine asked, leaning against the nearest counter and watching Kurt.

Kurt looked over at him with a faintly puzzled expression. ‘August. Why?’ he responded.

‘Just checking,’ Blaine said, yawning slightly, and rumpling the hair at the back of his head as he retrieved the summer blend from the top cupboard and began to fill the coffee machine. ‘So,’ he said, when the sound of falling beans had stopped, ‘how are we getting ready for Christmas today?’

Kurt paused in the process of peeling the peach slices, and beamed at Blaine. ‘Today, we are making the invitations to send out for our family get-together.’

Again, Blaine’s gaze slid involuntarily to the bright sunshine streaming in the windows. Outside, hibiscus and bougainvillea flourished, turning their back-garden into a riot of colour. Inside it was hot enough that they were sleeping under a light sheet instead of a duvet; Kurt in silk pyjamas, and Blaine in boxers. Blaine looked back at Kurt who was frowning. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little...early?’ he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Kurt set down his knife and turned to face Blaine, his expression strained. ‘This isn’t any Christmas party,’ he said, crossing his arms. ‘This is our first family get-together. Everything we do this year lays the foundations for years to come. That means _everyone_ has to be here, and _that_ means we have to send the invitations out _now_ to make sure everyone can come.’ He stopped speaking and pressed his lips tightly together.

Blaine crossed the room to stand in front of Kurt, his expression solemn. Reaching up, he gently stroked Kurt’s arms, before cupping one cheek in his hand and pressing a gentle kiss to Kurt’s lips.  
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, ‘I didn’t mean to trivialise it.’ Kurt nodded, his arms unfolding as he relaxed. Blaine enveloped him in a hug. ‘I will do everything I can to make this go well,’ he promised. Kurt returned his hug, pressing his face into the crook of Blaine’s neck.

‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ he murmured, his breath blowing gently over Blaine’s skin. Blaine squeezed him tighter for a moment, and then let go.

‘First, breakfast,’ he said, pressing a quick kiss to Kurt’s lips, and moving away to retrieve the natural yogurt from the fridge as Kurt returned to peeling the peaches. ‘At least they can all have a room in _this_ house,’ Blaine commented, setting the yogurt beside the bowls and retrieving two mugs from an overhead cupboard. ‘No one’s sleeping on the living room couch here.’

‘ _If_ we get them all decorated in time,’ Kurt said, briskly chopping the peeled peach slices in half and dropping them into the glass bowls.

‘I thought we were letting everyone choose their own colour scheme?’ Blaine responded, shouting to be heard over the sound of the coffee machine frothing the milk for Kurt’s coffee. ‘Like Puck, and Finn and Rachel, did.’

‘We are,’ Kurt called in agreement, dolloping yogurt on top of the sliced peaches as he spoke. ‘But,’ he continued, as the coffee machine quietened down, ‘we can’t have them staying in unpainted rooms for Christmas. I thought we could just give them all a splash of cream, it’s the easiest colour to paint over.’

‘Because it’s not a colour,’ Blaine commented, carrying the full mugs, and two spoons for the peaches, over to the island. ‘It’s an undercoat.’

Kurt smiled softly. ‘Undercoat is _white_ ,’ he said, scraping the peach skins into the bin and depositing the chopping board and knife in the sink.

‘So cream is...dirty undercoat?’ Blaine suggested, returning the yogurt to the fridge and dumping the serving spoon in the sink.

‘Philistine,’ Kurt said, smiling at Blaine as he turned away from the sink.

‘Snob,’ Blaine retorted fondly, hooking a hand behind Kurt’s neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. ‘Now, eat your farmer’s market peaches with organic yogurt and drink your skinny latte,’ he said, winking at Kurt and giving him a gentle shove. Kurt smiled warmly at him, stealing a quick kiss before he crossed to sit at the counter. ‘Maybe we can get Finn and Rachel to help,’ Blaine suggested, taking a long draw on his coffee. ‘Puck, too,’ he added.

Kurt beamed at him. ‘You are so clever,’ he said, grinning at him.

Blaine shrugged modestly. ‘Must be the company I keep,’ he said, smirking at Kurt over the top of his coffee cup.

_August_

‘What do you think?’ Kurt asked, standing in the middle of the living room, and spinning in a slow circle. He was wearing jeans from his “trucker” phase and one of Blaine’s old t-shirts, having declared that every top he owned was too expensive for decorating.

‘I think it’s the most sedate thing I’ve ever seen you wear,’ Blaine commented, smiling. He was leaning against the kitchen island, drinking a large mug of coffee and wearing similarly plain clothes.

‘I can be sedate,’ Kurt said, turning to look in the Art Nouveau-style mirror over the fireplace as he tied a skull-patterned scarf around his neck with quick, efficient movements. Blaine took another slug of coffee to hide his smirk.

‘Of course, dear,’ he murmured. Kurt threw him a quelling glance, but, before he could speak, the sound of a pick-up truck resounded in the quiet street. ‘Sounds like Finn needs that muffler replaced,’ Blaine commented idly.

Kurt nodded, looking out the window at the familiar black truck pulling up outside their three-storey, dark green house. ‘Well, maybe Dad or Puck can do it before he heads back to New York,’ he said, as Blaine joined him at the window.

‘Speaking of,’ Blaine added, nodding over his coffee cup at a second truck pulling up next to the first. Kurt strode over to fling open the front door.

‘Welcome, welcome!’ he called, clattering down the front steps with Blaine following at a slower pace.

Finn was unhooking the canvas covering the back of the truck, revealing tins of cream paint, rollers, and dust sheets, but he paused to pull Kurt into a hug. ‘Nice outfit,’ he said, grinning at Kurt.

‘Thank you,’ Kurt said, flipping his fringe back and smiling at Finn. ‘Mademoiselle Berry,’ he said, smiling at Rachel, and holding out his arms.

‘Monsieur Hummel,’ she said, winking at him and squeezing him up in a hug. ‘Love the house,’ she said, nodding in its direction.

‘Yes, well, I think the colour’s too dark, but Blaine won the toss on that one,’ Kurt said, shrugging dramatically.

‘It’s sympathetic to its surroundings,’ Blaine responded, gesturing to the pine trees bracketing the house. ‘And you got to pick the flowers for the back-garden,’ he added.

‘Nice to know you win occasionally,’ Finn said, pulling Blaine into a one-armed hug. ‘See you’re still inseparable from that mug,’ he added.

‘The elixir of life,’ Blaine said, toasting Finn before taking a drink.

‘You’re going to need it for today,’ Rachel said, smiling over at him.

‘You have no idea.’ Blaine laughed, setting his mug on the front stoop long enough to sweep her in a hug.

‘Where’s Puck?’ Kurt asked suddenly, nodding to his truck.

‘Under my truck,’ Finn said, smiling lopsidedly. ‘He insisted on looking at the muffler as soon as he got out of his car.’

‘Just as well I did, too,’ Puck said, rubbing his hands on an oil-smudged rag as he emerged from beneath Finn’s truck. Finn reached over to help him up. ‘That thing is gone, dude,’ Puck added, tucking the rag into the back pocket of his jeans and shaking his head ruefully. ‘No way you’re getting back to NY on that.’ Finn frowned and rubbed a hand through his hair anxiously. ‘Lucky for you,’ Puck continued, ‘Hummel Tires and Lube is running a “Friends and Family” program.’ He winked at Kurt, who smiled at him. ‘Bring ‘er by the shop before you go,’ Puck said, addressing Finn again. ‘I’ll get you a new one. No charge.’

‘Thanks, man,’ Finn said, sighing with relief. ‘Are you sure it’s okay, though?’ he asked anxiously.

Puck shrugged. ‘After you got me that job?’ he said, smiling. ‘Least I can do.’

Finn clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Hey, you got that job on your own; all I did was give you a nudge in the right direction.’

Rachel, who had been staring at Puck since he reappeared, tapped a finger on her lower lip and said, ‘There’s something different about you.’

‘No mohawk,’ Blaine commented, from his perch on the porch.

‘That’s it!’ Rachel said, grinning. ‘You suit it,’ she added.

Puck ran one hand over his shaved head sheepishly. ‘Well, customers have more confidence in a guy who looks respectable. ‘S what Carole says, anyway.’

Kurt smiled. ‘I thought she might have had something to do with it,’ he commented.

‘She’s an awesome lady,’ Puck said, smiling at them. ‘Anyway,’ he said, suddenly, ‘don’t we have a house to paint?’

‘Sure do,’ Rachel said.

‘Not the whole house,’ Kurt reassured them. ‘Blaine and I managed your rooms, our room, and the public rooms on our own.’

‘What did you choose for the living room in the end?’ Puck asked. ‘Cream or green?’

‘Both,’ Kurt said, looking pleased. ‘We got a nice sage colour. Paler than Blaine wanted but more colourful than cream.’

‘Very classy,’ Blaine commented, setting down his mug and standing. ‘You need a hand with those ladders?’ he asked, gesturing to the metal ladders strapped into the back of Puck’s truck.

‘Won’t say no,’ Puck said, smiling at him.

‘Here, I’ll help, too,’ Finn said, following Puck back to his truck.

‘So what _are_ we painting?’ Rachel asked Kurt, hooking one arm through his.

‘The family bedrooms, well, the unclaimed ones,’ Kurt said, scooping up Blaine’s mug as the two of them headed back into the house. ‘We can repaint them with people’s colour choices in the new year, but I thought a nice, neutral cream would do for now.’

‘Well, we can’t have people staying in unpainted rooms for Christmas,’ Rachel said, letting go of his arm as they passed through the door.

Kurt beamed at her over his shoulder.

_September_

‘Isn’t it a glorious day?’ Kurt asked, smiling at Blaine as they ambled along the edge of Port Clinton Public Park. The city’s venerable pines soared above them, already tinged with autumn colour.

‘Gorgeous,’ Blaine agreed, tipping his face up to the soft autumn sun. It was still warm enough for short sleeves and Kurt’s bare arm brushed against Blaine’s as they walked. They were collecting pine cones for Kurt to spray silver as part of his evergreen-and-silver Christmas colour scheme, and the wicker basket slung on Kurt’s arm already contained a number of fallen pine cones.

‘Oh, here’s some more,’ Kurt said, releasing Blaine’s hand to crouch before a pile of them, sorting through them for the most aesthetically pleasing ones.

‘How many do we need?’ Blaine asked, leaning against the tree trunk to watch Kurt work.

‘Well, we’ll probably need two for each of the garlands in the bedrooms, plus three or four for each of the garlands in the public rooms and some for the dining room table so...fifty?’ Kurt responded, dropping a few pine cones into the basket and discarding the rest.

‘And how many have we got?’ Blaine asked, straightening up and helping Kurt to his feet. Kurt sifted through the basket counting under his breath.

‘Ten,’ he said, grimacing. He sighed. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Well,’ Blaine said, taking Kurt’s free hand and interlinking their fingers again, ‘it is, as you say, a glorious day, we’ve got more than half the park to go, and I’m in no hurry. Are you?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows and leaning in to rest his forehead against Kurt’s.

Kurt smiled, tilting his face so he could kiss Blaine deeply. ‘No hurry at all,’ he said, when they parted. Letting the wicker basket dangle from one hand, Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand lightly as they turned and wandered on.

_October_

‘How many of those are you planning to carve?’ Kurt asked, looking over at the six large pumpkins Blaine had set out on the kitchen counters. Kurt was sitting in one of the armchairs before their large, currently empty, fireplace. A box of wool and knitted gloves sat beside his chair and he had a half-finished glove in his lap. The box of wool next to Blaine’s chair overflowed with scarves of many colours.

‘Um, all of them,’ Blaine said, archly. ‘I’m going to put candles in them and line them along the path to the door. Lighting the candy trail,’ he added, grinning broadly.

‘Are there even any kids in Port Clinton?’ Kurt asked, watching Blaine with amusement.

‘Halloween is not just for kids,’ Blaine said, his eyes dancing with excitement as he retrieved a very sharp knife from one of the drawers and plunged it into the nearest pumpkin. ‘Sure you don’t wanna help?’ he asked, slicing the top off of one of the pumpkins and reaching in to pull out the contents.

‘I’ve got gloves to knit,’ Kurt said, smiling nonetheless at Blaine’s obvious glee.

‘I’ve got fancy patterns for the front,’ Blaine said enticingly. He had dumped the contents of the first pumpkin into the bin and was now cutting a lid into the second one.

‘You’re not just going to do creepy faces?’ Kurt asked, intrigued.

Blaine scoffed. ‘Whose house d’you think this is?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘I have got fretwork patterns that will make our front walk the most interesting place in all of Ohio.’ Kurt bit his lip, his gaze flickering from the knitting in his lap to Blaine, up to his elbow in pumpkin guts and beaming like a big kid. ‘Come on,’ Blaine wheedled. ‘You know you want to.’

Kurt grinned and set his knitting to one side. ‘Fine,’ he said trying to look stern as he crossed to the kitchen island, ‘but I’m not getting pumpkin juice on anything, and if there aren’t enough gloves this Christmas-’

‘I will take all the blame,’ Blaine said, leaning over to kiss him as he started on pumpkin number three.

‘You’d better,’ Kurt said, kissing him in return. ‘Now where’s this pattern?’

_November_

Kurt lay in sleepy comfort in his parent’s living room, relishing the quiet and the calm. Soon it would be time for the final Thanksgiving football game of the year. The other men would be yelling at the TV and supporting different teams just for the joy of arguing with each other, and Kurt would retreat to the den with Carole and Rachel to talk of more civilised things. Then it would be kisses and hugs, searching for misplaced scarves, and failing to convince Blaine to let him drive back to Port Clinton since Blaine drove down, but, for now, he was warm and full, and cuddled against Blaine and there was only the murmur of the radio and the rhythmic clacking of Carole’s knitting needles as she finished another hat.

Kurt was barely aware of one song finishing and another starting until he heard Blaine humming beside him. He smiled as he recognised the song. ‘ _Oh the weather outside is frightful_ ,’ he sang, ‘ _but the fire is so delightful and, since we’ve no place to go_ ,’ he propped himself up to smile at Blaine, ‘ _let it snow, let it snow, let it snow_!’

‘ _It doesn’t show signs of stopping_ ,’ Blaine sang, smiling down at him, ‘ _and I’ve brought some corn for popping. The lights are turned way down low_ ,’ Blaine winked at Kurt. ‘ _Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow._ ’

‘ _When we finally kiss goodnight_ ,’ Finn joined in, from the other end of the couch, ‘ _how I’ll hate going out in the storm. But, if you really hold me tight_ ,’ he sang, squeezing Rachel until she laughed, ‘ _all the way home I’ll be warm_.’

‘ _The fire is slowly dying_ ,’ Rachel sang, smiling up at Finn, ‘ _and my dear we’re still goodbye-ing. But, as long as you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_ ’

Blaine stood, pulling Kurt up with him and sweeping him into a waltz. Finn, grinning at Rachel, did the same. As they neared Carole’s chair, Blaine twirled Kurt and pulled Carole into a dance. Laughing, Carole allowed herself to be passed from Blaine to Kurt to Finn and back to her chair, just as the instrumental section finished.

‘ _The fire is slowly dying_ ,’ Blaine sang, slow dancing with Kurt once again.

‘ _And my dear, we’re still goodbye-ing_ ,’ Kurt sang, smiling softly at Blaine.

‘ _But as long as you love me so_ ,’ Rachel sang, as Finn twirled her.  
‘ _Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_ ’ they sang together.

As the track reached its rousing finish, the two couples collapsed back onto the couch, grinning at each other.

‘Wish it would snow,’ Kurt said, after a moment.

‘Maybe it’ll snow tonight,’ Blaine suggested, giving Kurt a gentle squeeze. Kurt smiled.

‘It’s certainly cold enough,’ Burt grumbled from behind them. They turned to see Burt and Puck coming in the front door, bundled up and carrying something between them.

‘Dad,’ Kurt said, standing immediately, ‘you’re not supposed to carry heavy objects.’

‘Guess I’m alright, then,’ Burt said archly. ‘Beside, I got Puck to help me.’

‘It’s not that heavy,’ Puck said, shrugging at Kurt.

Kurt pressed his lips together. ‘What is it anyway?’ Kurt said, trying to see between the two men.

‘Well,’ Burt said, as he and Puck moved further into the room, ‘since you guys have been doin’ all that knitting, I thought you might want something to put it in.’ He and Puck stepped into the middle of the room and set down a large cedar chest. It was pale, with simple, elegant lines and polished brass handles. ‘See,’ Burt said, lifting the lid, ‘plenty of space for all them hats and gloves and scarves you’ve been knitting.’

Kurt stared at it, one hand on his chest. ‘Did you make this yourself?’ he asked quietly.

‘Of course!’ Burt said, cheerily. ‘You guys were being all craft-y, I thought it was my turn.’ He grinned at Kurt. ‘Call it a housewarming gift.’

Kurt stepped forward and hugged Burt tightly. ‘Thank you, Dad,’ he said quietly, ‘it’s beautiful.’

‘Eh, it’s nothin’,’ Burt said, patting Kurt on the back. Kurt smiled and stepped back.

‘It really is beautiful,’ Blaine said, smiling at Burt. ‘Thank you.’

‘What’s this?’ Kurt asked, reaching in and retrieving a loosely wrapped parcel from the bottom of the chest.

‘That’s from Burt and me,’ Carole said, standing up and setting her knitting to one side. ‘Since you’ve picked a name for the house now,’ she said, as Kurt unwrapped the package, ‘we thought it’d be nice to have a sign for it.’

Inside the paper there was a slice of pine trunk, cut at an angle, with the words _The Pines_ etched into it in elegant lettering.

‘Carole did the letters,’ Burt said.

‘Thank you,’ Kurt said, pulling Carole into a hug as well.

‘No problem, honey,’ Carole said, hugging him back and then pulling Blaine into a hug too.

‘Right, now we’ve got all that sentiment out of the way,’ Burt said, smiling at Kurt, who rolled his eyes, ‘I believe it’s time for some football.’

‘Excellent,’ Puck said, grinning. ‘My boys are gonna win, I know it. This is their year.’

‘Their year to lose,’ Finn retorted, digging out the remote. ‘Best quarterback in the country is playing on _my_ side. Your boys haven’t got a chance.’

‘Cocoa?’ Rachel suggested, stepping up beside Kurt.

‘And showtunes?’ Kurt added. Rachel grinned.

‘I’ll put the milk on,’ Carole said, smiling at Rachel and Kurt as the three of them left the boys squabbling amiably over which team was assured victory and which was destined for defeat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set five years after [A Minor Musical Mutiny](http://yourebrilliant.livejournal.com/77818.html) The New Directions "family" are gathering at Kurt and Blaine's house for the first time and Kurt will accept nothing less than a perfect Christmas...

  
  
_December the first_  
  
Blaine woke in an empty bed, to a room lit only by the orange glow of the streetlamp outside. ‘Kurt?’ he murmured, huskily.  
  
‘Here,’ Kurt said, his voice low. Turning on his side, Blaine saw Kurt leaning against the bedroom window, his breath misting the glass, the despondent expression on his face emphasised by the low light.  
  
‘What’s going on?’ Blaine asked, slipping out of bed and padding over to the window.  
  
‘It’s the first of December,’ Kurt said, as Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist and rested his cheek against one of Kurt’s broad shoulders, ‘I was checking to see if it snowed.’  
  
‘I’m guessing not,’ Blaine murmured into Kurt’s pyjama top.  
  
‘Not,’ Kurt said, tersely. ‘It’s just as green as November, and October, and September-’  
  
‘Hey,’ Blaine said, interrupting Kurt’s bitter litany. Releasing Kurt, he took hold of his shoulders, turning him until they were face-to-face. ‘It’s the _first_ of December,’ Blaine said quietly, his gaze fixed on Kurt. ‘There’s still plenty of time for it to snow.’  
  
Kurt sighed, his arms coming up to link around Blaine’s waist. ‘You’re right,’ he said, leaning in to brush a kiss across Blaine’s lips. ‘I’m sure it’ll snow tomorrow.’  
  
‘Exactly,’ Blaine said, sliding his hands up to cup Kurt’s cheeks. ‘Tomorrow for sure.’ He leant close and kissed Kurt deeply. ‘Now come back to bed before it gets all cold,’ Blaine said, when they parted.  
  
‘Okay,’ Kurt said, releasing Blaine so they could both slide back into bed. ‘Only for a few minutes though,’ Kurt said, already snuggling up to Blaine. ‘We’ve got lots to do,’ he added, resting his cheek against Blaine’s chest.  
  
‘Right,’ Blaine said, threading his fingers in Kurt’s wild hair and wrapping an arm around his waist. ‘Just,’ he yawned, ‘five,’ another yawn, ‘minutes.’ He yawned so widely he thought he heard his jaw crack. When he looked down again, Kurt was already asleep.  
~*~*~  
‘Okay, I am clean and clothed,’ Blaine called, as he jogged down the last steps into the kitchen. ‘Just put a coffee in my hand,’ he continued, smiling as Kurt handed him a mug of strong black coffee scented with cinnamon, ‘and I am ready to...wow,’ he finished, finally noticing the change in the dining room table. Sipping his coffee, Blaine crossed the room to take a closer look at the table. In the time it had taken Blaine to shower and shave, Kurt had laid out a gift-wrapping assembly line. At one end, there were numerous rolls of wrapping paper, a craft knife and protective board, and a set square. At the other end, endless rolls of ribbon were stacked in a pyramid – grouped according to shade – next to gift tags matching the wrapping paper, calligraphy pens in gold and silver, and a pair of scissors.  
  
‘Too much?’ Kurt asked, apprehensively. He had moved to stand beside Blaine, his hands gripping the chair in front of him as he watched Blaine’s gaze roam over the table.  
  
Blaine grinned. ‘Are you crazy?’ he asked, eyes sparkling. Kurt gave a tentative smile. ‘This is amazing,’ Blaine said, gesturing happily to the table. ‘And I would expect nothing less of you,’ he added, winking affectionately at Kurt, who beamed. Blaine paused for a moment, all his attention on Kurt, the gift-wrapping forgotten. ‘Kurt,’ he said quietly, setting his mug down and taking one of Kurt’s hands, Kurt looked over at him, ‘we’ve been together for _six years_ , we’re _engaged_ ,’ Kurt frowned at him, not quite following his train of thought, ‘you don’t have to check with me if it’s okay to be...you.’ He stared at Kurt, refusing to allow him to brush aside his insecurity, as he so often did. Kurt returned his stare, caught by the intensity of Blaine’s gaze, by the love so evident, and so evidently unshakeable, in those deep, brown eyes.  
  
Finally, he nodded, squeezing Blaine’s hand and smiling softly. ‘Okay,’ he said quietly. Blaine smiled at him, one of those smiles that took Kurt’s breath away, even now. ‘So,’ Kurt said, breaking their staring contest to return to the subject at hand, ‘which end of the table do you want?’  
  
‘Well,’ Blaine said, pretending to consider the options as he retrieved his mug, ‘you do love craft knives, and you know how I love to curl ribbon,’ he smirked at Kurt over his mug, ‘so I think you can do the wrapping, and I’ll be in charge of frills and fripperies.’  
  
Kurt grinned. ‘And this way I get to use that set square you got me!’ Blaine laughed quietly. ‘I’ll put on the music,’ Kurt called, already making his way over to the hifi, ‘you get the presents!’  
  
Smiling contentedly, Blaine set his coffee mug next to the ribbons and left to fetch the huge cardboard box which they had spent the last four months filling with presents. As he passed Kurt, he could hear the start of the first song in Kurt’s Christmas playlist.  
  
 _Snowflakes falling, church bells calling, it’s Christmas time again...  
  
December the fifth_  
  
‘Anything?’ Blaine asked, rolling over in bed to watch Kurt as he stood once again at their bedroom window, staring out into the early morning darkness. It didn’t matter how carefully Kurt slid out of bed, how lightly he stepped, how much he tried to block the light from the streetlamps, every time Kurt woke early to check the weather, Blaine did too. It was a daily ritual now, as if his dedication alone could will the snow from the cloudless skies.  
  
‘Nothing,’ Kurt responded, sighing and coming back to bed. The temperature was dropping and Kurt was cold even in his fleece-and-flannel pyjamas. Blaine reached out and pulled him closer, trying to infuse Kurt with his body heat. ‘The glass feels colder, though,’ Kurt added, hopefully.  
  
Blaine smiled. ‘Tomorrow for sure,’ he murmured.  
  
Kurt nodded against the pillow. ‘Tomorrow for sure.’  
~*~*~  
‘D’you think we should take the saw in with us?’ Rachel called, hopping out of the van and walking around to Finn’s side.  
  
‘Nah,’ Finn said, tucking her against his side as they headed towards the front steps, ‘we’ve got to pick the tree first.’ He smiled down at her with his usual seasonal glee, and Rachel smiled up at him.  
  
‘Have I told you how cute you are?’ she asked, as they climbed the front steps.  
  
Finn gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Not lately,’ he said, stopping at the top of the steps and swinging her against him.  
  
‘You,’ Rachel said, reaching up on her tiptoes as Finn leant towards her, ‘are very cute.’ She closed the distance and kissed him.  
  
‘Right back atcha,’ Finn murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.  
  
Someone coughed pointedly. Finn closed his eyes and shook his head. Rachel laughed, and leaned up to kiss him again anyway.  
  
‘When you’ve quite finished making out on my front porch,’ Kurt said, smiling indulgently at them from the open doorway, ‘we have a Christmas tree to choose.’ He and Finn grinned at each other.  
  
‘So, tell the truth,’ Rachel said, hugging Kurt and stepping inside, ‘did you choose this house because the back garden looks like a Christmas tree lot?’  
  
‘No, he chose it because it had a converted attic big enough for all his clothes,’ Blaine said, smiling at Rachel and coming over to hug her. Kurt and Blaine were both wearing warm jackets and scarves, unbuttoned, as they were inside. A pair of gloves stuck out of one of Blaine’s jacket pockets and Kurt carried his own pair in one hand.  
  
‘There were many contributing factors to _our_ decision,’ Kurt said airily, closing the door behind Finn.  
  
‘Right,’ Blaine said, smiling and hugging Finn, ‘ _our_ decision.’ He winked at Kurt, who hid a smile as he rolled his eyes dramatically.  
  
‘Oh, I’m so misunderstood,’ Kurt declared, crossing the long room to open the back door next to the kitchen.  
  
‘So, you _don’t_ want us to help you cut down and decorate a Christmas tree?’ Finn asked, affecting confusion.  
  
‘As if I could stop you,’ Kurt retorted, buttoning up his jacket and pulling on his expensive, fingerless gloves.  
  
‘Got your flannel shirt ready?’ Blaine asked, doing up his own coat as he and Rachel followed Kurt and Finn out onto the deck.  
  
‘Lumberjack uniform, present and correct,’ Finn said, pulling his jacket to one side to reveal the collar of his red and green check flannel shirt.  
  
‘Ditto,’ Blaine said, grinning at him as he pulled on his gloves.  
  
‘So, now we’ve just got to pick a tree,’ Rachel said, smiling at them. The four of them turned to look out at the rows of tall green pines, shining in the winter sun.  
  
‘Let’s go!’ Finn said, grabbing Rachel’s hand and clattering down the back steps.  
  
‘Shall we?’ Blaine asked, proffering his arm.  
  
‘Let’s,’ Kurt said, taking Blaine’s arm and smiling at him as they followed Finn and Rachel at a more sedate pace.  
~*~*~  
‘That,’ Finn said, after dinner, standing in front of the large gas fireplace, where warm flames flickered, ‘is what I call a well-decorated Christmas tree.’ He smiled proudly at the seven-foot pine they had chosen as it sat in its sturdy base, the “ugly” pot covered with an embroidered silver tree skirt. Blaine and Kurt were in the kitchen, mixing up a nightcap and Rachel was seated on one of the long couches, her legs curled up beneath her.  
  
‘Beautiful,’ Kurt declared, admiring the tree, as he handed Rachel a mug of mulled wine. Numerous elegant silver baubles dangled artfully from the many tree branches, no two baubles the same. The white berries of the fake-mistletoe lights glowed from amongst the pine needles, and Kurt had even been convinced to allow silver tinsel to desecrate his sophisticated design. ‘Now, if only it would snow,’ he murmured, handing Finn his mug.  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Blaine sang, emerging from the kitchen with two mugs in his hands.  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Finn sang, taking a seat next to Rachel, who was already sipping her wine.  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Rachel sang.  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Kurt sang, smiling at Blaine as he accepted his mug.  
  
‘ _Snow!_ ’ They sang together.  
  
‘ _It won’t be long before we’ll all be there with snow_ ,’ Blaine sang, taking a seat on the other couch.  
  
‘ _Snow, snow, I wanna wash my hands, my face, and hair with snow_ ,’ Kurt added, sitting next to Blaine.  
  
‘ _Snow, I long to clear a path and lift a spade of snow_ ,’ Finn sang.  
  
‘ _Snow, oh! To see a great, big man entirely made of snow_ ,’ Rachel sang, winking at Finn.  
  
‘ _Snow, where it’s snowing, all winter through, that’s where I wanna be_ ,’ Blaine sang, leaning forward and setting his mug on the side table between the two couches.  
  
‘ _Snowball throwing, that’s what I’ll do_ ,’ Kurt added, grinning as he leant forward.  
  
‘ _How I’m longing to ski_ ,’ Rachel sang, leaning in.  
  
‘ _Through the snow-oh, snow-oh_ ,’ they all sang.  
  
‘ _Those glistening houses, that seem to be built of snow_ ,’ Blaine sang.  
  
‘ _Snow, oh, to see a mountain covered with a quilt of snow_ ,’ Kurt added, taking Blaine’s hand. Blaine grinned at him.  
  
‘ _What is Christmas with no snow_?’ Kurt and Rachel sang.  
  
‘ _No White Christmas with no_ ,’ Blaine sang.  
  
‘ _No_ ,’ Finn echoed, leaning forward and setting down his mug.  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Rachel sang.  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Kurt added.  
  
‘ _Snow!_ ’ they all sang.  
  
‘ _I’ll soon be there with snow_ ,’ Rachel sang.   
  
Finn and Blaine grinned at each other. ‘ _Chick-a-chick, chick-a-chick, chick-a-chick, chick-a-chick_ ,’ they sang, imitating the sound of a steam train.  
  
‘ _I’ll wash my hair with snow_ ,’ Kurt sang, smiling at the boys.  
  
‘ _Chick-a-chick, chick-a-chick, chick-a-chick, chick-a-chick_ ,’ Blaine and Finn sang.  
  
‘ _And with a spade of snow_ ,’ Finn sang, wrapping one arm around Rachel, ‘ _I’ll build a man that’s made of snow_ ,’ he winked at her.  
  
‘ _I’d love to stay up with you, but I recommend a little shut-eye, go to sleep_ ,’ Blaine sang, squeezing Kurt’s hand gently, ‘ _and dream of snow_ ,’  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Finn responded  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Rachel added  
  
‘ _Snow_ ,’ Kurt sang.  
  
‘ _Snow_!’ they sang together.  
~*~*~  
  
 _December the sixth_  
  
‘I thought it might make a difference,’ Kurt said, before Blaine could speak, ‘us singing that song.’ He looked over at Blaine, his eyes wide in the half-light of another winter morning.  
  
Blaine slid out of bed and padded towards Kurt. ‘Like a snow dance?’ he asked, smiling sleepily.  
  
‘Fine,’ Kurt said, rolling his eyes and slumping against the window, ‘make fun.’  
  
‘Hey,’ Blaine said, pretending to be offended, ‘I would never mock another person’s belief system.’ He paused. ‘Did it work?’  
  
Kurt shook his head. ‘I guess it was stupid,’ he said, standing up again.  
  
‘Or,’ Blaine said, reaching up to brush Kurt’s hair back off his face, ‘we just haven’t found the right song, yet.’  
  
Kurt smiled, linking his hands at the small of Blaine’s back. ‘Any suggestions?’  
  
Blaine grinned at him. ‘Loads,’ he said, stealing a quick kiss. ‘But,’ he added, as Kurt opened his mouth to speak, ‘later, okay? I have to be awake to sing.’ Letting go of Kurt, Blaine grabbed his hand, tugging Kurt away from the window.  
  
Kurt laughed. ‘Okay, later,’ he said, allowing himself to be dragged back to bed.  
~*~*~  
By the time Blaine woke again, a pale winter sun was shining through the curtains they had forgotten to close earlier. Blaine stifled a groan as Kurt yawned and rolled away. ‘What time is it?’ Kurt asked anxiously, peering at the window.  
  
‘Too early,’ Blaine said, rolling onto his side and pulling the covers over both their heads.  
  
Kurt laughed as he turned to face Blaine, his smile just visible in the gloom. ‘We do have work to do,’ Kurt said quietly.  
  
‘Of course,’ Blaine said, inching closer to Kurt. ‘Later.’ He leant forward.  
  
‘No,’ Kurt said, resting one hand on Blaine’s chest.  
  
‘Yes,’ Blaine murmured, leaning in and kissing Kurt deeply.  
  
‘Work,’ Kurt murmured, faintly, when Blaine pulled back.  
  
‘Later,’ Blaine repeated, leaning in and kissing Kurt again as he rolled him onto his back.  
  
‘Okay,’ Kurt said, as Blaine pulled away again. Smiling, he reached up and linked his arms behind Blaine’s neck, pulling him in closer. ‘Later,’ he murmured, kissing Blaine again.  
~*~*~  
‘I was thinking,’ Kurt said, handing Blaine a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and accepting the coffee Blaine was handing him, ‘that we should take advantage of the sunshine while we have it.’  
  
‘Yeah?’ Blaine responded, taking his seat at the kitchen island and drinking deeply from his own mug. ‘What did you have in mind?’  
  
‘Well,’ Kurt said, as he took a seat next to Blaine, ‘we’ve got those evergreen garlands to do and making the garlands is messy, as is spraying the pine cones, _plus_ we need to keep you in a well-ventilated area so you don’t get all high on the paint fumes.’ Blaine smiled at Kurt and cut a piece of bacon. ‘So, I was thinking we could do the whole thing on the deck,’ Kurt finished proudly.  
  
Blaine chewed his bacon thoughtfully. ‘Sounds good,’ he said, when he had swallowed. ‘We can push a couple of those little tables together for the garlands and one of them should be enough for the pine cones, the silver spray, and the glitter.’  
  
‘No glitter!’ Kurt said, frowning at Blaine over his breakfast. Blaine looked at him, his eyebrows raised. ‘No,’ Kurt said, weakly. ‘It’s tacky.’  
  
‘I’ll only use a little sprinkling,’ Blaine said, persuasively. ‘It’s not like they’ll look like disco balls.’  
  
‘It’ll get everywhere,’ Kurt retorted, trying to ignore Blaine’s wide eyes and pouty lips.  
  
‘It’ll be pretty,’ Blaine responded. ‘Very festive,’ he added, seeing that Kurt was weakening.  
  
‘Fine,’ Kurt said, leaning over and kissing Blaine quickly. ‘Do whatever you want.’ Blaine smirked wickedly and Kurt blushed. ‘With the glitter,’ he amended. Blaine’s smile widened. ‘Oh, eat your eggs,’ Kurt said, throwing his hands up and trying not to smile. Blaine laughed and scooped up a forkful of eggs, still chuckling as he ate. Kurt studiously avoided his eye as he took a calming sip of coffee and smiled quietly to himself.  
~*~*~  
‘So, these songs,’ Blaine said, as he set the glitter and spray-paint out on one newspaper-covered side table, ‘any suggestions?’  
  
They had pushed the many comfortable, wooden chairs back against the railing to make space for their operation. A vast pile of evergreen cuttings sat beside the two tables they had pushed together for Kurt, and strong cord and florist’s wire were laid out on top along with a pair of secateurs and Blaine’s gardening gloves. Kurt’s wicker basket sat between Kurt and Blaine’s tables, ready to receive the be-glittered pine cones for Kurt to use in his garlands. A large bowl of plain pine cones sat on one corner of Blaine’s table, next to the rubber gloves Kurt had insisted Blaine wear to protect his hands.   
  
Kurt considered Blaine’s question as he measured out a length of cord. They were both back in their painting clothes, this time with several jumpers and their thick coats on top, the outfits topped off with warm hats and scarves from the cedar chest by the back door. ‘Well, it can’t be _Let It Snow_ , or _Snow_ , since we did both of those and...’ he gestured to the snowless ground. ‘We could try _Snowfall_.’  
  
‘Very to-the-point,’ Blaine said, smiling as he held one pine cone in a be-gloved hand and started to spray, turning the pine cone in the silver mist. ‘ _Winter Wonderland_ ,’ he added.  
  
‘ _White Christmas_ ,’ Kurt suggested, selecting the first cutting for his garland.  
  
‘ _I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm_ ,’ Blaine returned, setting the first pine cone to one side to dry and selecting the next one.  
  
‘How about the old favourite?’ Kurt suggested, winding florist’s wire around the base of the next cutting.  
  
‘ _Baby, It’s Cold Outside?_ ’ Blaine asked; Kurt nodded. ‘Well, I am fond of that one,’ Blaine said, grinning. ‘Should we be writing these down?’  
  
‘I’ll remember,’ Kurt said, spreading the branches of one cutting to cover the base of the next. ‘Any more?’ Kurt asked, looking over at Blaine.  
  
Blaine thought for a moment, sprinkling glitter contemplatively. ‘Not right now,’ he said at last.  
  
Kurt frowned. ‘It’s not a long list,’ he said, anxiously.  
  
‘Makes it easier to remember,’ Blaine suggested. Kurt frowned at him. ‘We could always do _In The Bleak Midwinter_ ,’ Blaine suggested archly.  
  
Kurt laughed. ‘Fine, I won’t worry until we’ve done them all.’  
  
‘Good plan,’ Blaine said, smiling at him and reaching for another cone.  
  
‘ _Over the ground lies a mantle of white_ ,’ Kurt sang, winding wire around another cutting.  
  
‘ _A heaven of diamonds shine down through the night_ ,’ Blaine added, grinning as he sprayed the silver paint.  
  
‘ _Two hearts are thrillin_ ’,’ Kurt sang.  
  
‘ _In spite of the chill in_ ,’ Blaine retorted.  
  
‘ _The weather_ ,’ they sang together.  
  
‘ _Love knows no season, love knows no clime_ ,’ Blaine continued.  
  
‘ _Romance can blossom any old time_ ,’ Kurt sang, reaching the end of his garland and winding the end of the wire into place.  
  
‘ _Here in the open_ ,’ Blaine sang, tossing a silver pine cone to Kurt.  
  
‘ _We’re walkin’ and hopin’_ ,’ Kurt sang, catching the cone and winding it into the garland.  
  
‘ _Together_ ,’ they sang.  
~*~*~  
‘What do you think?’ Kurt asked, leaning against the front of the island as he admired the garlands they had hung in the living and dining room.  
  
‘Well,’ Blaine said, leaning one hip against the side of the island and cradling a mug of coffee, ‘I look around this room and I say to myself, “You know something, it’s beginning to look like Christmas”.’  
  
Kurt smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Dino,’ he said archly.  
  
‘It looks great,’ Blaine added, ‘and tomorrow it’ll look even better when we look out those windows and see the snow falling.’  
  
‘Tomorrow for sure?’ Kurt asked, leaning back across the island.  
  
Blaine leant over and kissed him. ‘Tomorrow for sure.’

 


	3. A Port Clinton Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set five years after A Minor Musical Mutiny, the New Directions "family" are gathering at Kurt and Blaine's house for the first time and Kurt will accept nothing less than a perfect Christmas...

_December the eleventh_

‘That...is not exactly what we were hoping for,’ Blaine said, looking out at the rain running down their window in long rivulets.

‘Your talent for understatement continually amazes me,’ Kurt retorted sharply. Blaine shot him a pointed look and Kurt laid one hand on Blaine’s shoulder. ‘Sorry,’ he said softly. Suddenly he sighed, all of his vitriol draining away and leaving him looking sad and defeated. ‘I just want this to be the perfect Christmas. How can it be perfect if there’s no snow?’ he asked, his tone becoming increasingly desperate.

Blaine pulled him close, holding him and kissing him gently. ‘Look,’ he said softly, ‘think of it this way, we got precipitation, just...not the kind we meant. Appealing to a weather god is a very inexact science,’ he added, smiling encouragingly. ‘There’s still half a month to go.’

Kurt laughed and leaned into Blaine’s comforting hug. ‘In the meantime,’ he said, ‘it looks like we need a rainy day activity to keep us busy.’

Blaine smirked lasciviously. ‘What did you have in mind?’ he asked softly.

Kurt grinned. ‘Gingerbread lanterns!’ he said happily.

Blaine smiled ruefully. ‘Let’s bake!’  
~*~*~*~  
‘ _It’s the most wonderful time of the year_ ,’ Blaine sang, retrieving a vast mixing bowl from an under-counter cupboard.

‘ _With the kids jingle-belling and everyone telling you “Be of good cheer”_ ,’ Kurt added, fetching down the dry ingredients. He was wearing a red apron with a large green Christmas tree embroidered on the front. He smiled as Blaine tweaked his waist on his way to the island.

‘ _It’s the most wonderful time of the year_ ,’ Blaine finished, setting measuring spoons next to the bowl.

‘ _It’s the hap-hap-hap-happiest season of all_ ,’ Kurt sang, carefully measuring out flour.

‘ _With those holiday greetings and gay, happy meetings when friends come to call_ ,’ Blaine sang, removing the butter from the fridge and fetching a knife.

‘ _It’s the hap-hap-hap-happiest season of all_.’ Kurt carefully poured the flour into the mixing bowl as Blaine began slicing up the butter.

‘ _There’ll be parties for hosting_ ,’ Blaine sang, as Kurt measured ground ginger into the mix.

‘ _Marshmallows for toasting_ ,’ Kurt added, measuring bicarbonate of soda into the bowl.

‘ _And carolling out in the snow_ ,’ they sang together. Blaine set the butter beside Kurt and passed him a large wooden spoon.

‘ _There’ll be scary ghost stories_ ,’ Kurt sang, carefully mixing the ingredients evenly.

‘ _And tales of the glories_ ,’ Blaine measured the sugar into a smaller bowl.

‘ _Of the Christmases long, long ago_ ,’ they sang together. Blaine returned the surplus ingredients to the cupboard as Kurt began to mix the chunks of butter into the dry ingredients. ‘ _It’s the most wonderful time of the year. There’ll be much mistletoe-ing and hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near! It’s the most wonderful time of the year_.’

As Kurt mixed and the instrumental section played in the background, Blaine retrieved the cling film from one cupboard and began to measure out a large piece.

‘ _There’ll be parties for hosting_ ,’ Kurt sang.

‘ _Marshmallows for toasting_ ,’ Blaine added, retrieving the butter wrapper and dropping it into the bin.

‘ _And carolling out in the snow_ ,’ they sang together. Kurt mixed in the sugar and began to gather the mixture into dough.

‘ _There’ll be scary ghost stories_ ,’ Blaine sang, leaning against the island and smiling at Kurt as he worked.

‘ _And tale of the glories_ ,’ Kurt sang, lifting the large ball of dough out of the mixing bowl and setting it in the centre of the cling film.

‘ _Of Christmases long, long ago_.’ As Kurt wrapped the dough in cling flim, Blaine retrieved the dirty dishes and set them in the sink. _‘Long, long ago, oh, oh_!’

‘ _It’s the most wonderful time of the year_ ,’ Kurt sang, putting the dough ball in the fridge.

‘ _There’ll be much mistletoe-ing and hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near_ ,’ Blaine sang, cleaning the bowl and setting it on the dish drainer.

‘ _It’s the most wonderful time_ ,’ Kurt said, wiping down the countertop of the island.

‘ _Yes the most wonderful time_ ,’ Blaine added, washing the wooden spoon and setting it to dry.

‘ _It’s the most wonderful time_ ,’ Kurt sang, rinsing out the sponge, as Blaine dried his hands on one of the Christmas towels.

‘ _Of the year_!’ they sang together, grinning at each other.

‘Beautifully done,’ Blaine said, as the song finished.

‘Same to you,’ Kurt replied, winking at Blaine as he untied his apron and set it to one side. ‘And now, I think we should sit in front of the fire and do nothing at all until the dough is ready.’

Blaine reached out and took Kurt’s hand. ‘I think that sounds like an excellent plan,’ he said, twirling Kurt as they made their way over to the living room.  
~*~*~

_December the eighteenth_

‘It’s been raining for a _week_ ,’ Kurt sighed, dropping onto his side of the bed. Blaine looked over at his despondent expression before returning his attention to the view from their bedroom window.

‘Maybe we angered the weather god by performing the wrong ritual,’ Blaine commented, watching the rain fall with a contemplative expression.

Kurt stared at him. ‘I can never tell how serious you are about the weather god,’ he commented idly.

‘Oh, I’m deadly serious,’ Blaine said, looking at Kurt intensely. ‘We need to do something to fix this.’ He strode away from the window and started to get dressed.

‘I’m against human sacrifice,’ Kurt called. ‘Just, you know, FYI.’

Blaine snorted. ‘Don’t worry, nobody’s getting sacrificed.’ He gestured to Kurt with one sock, the other already on his foot. ‘Come on, get dressed.’

‘Why?’ Kurt asked, frowning as Blaine pulled on his other sock.

Blaine grinned at him as he strode out of the room. ‘I have a plan!’ he called.  
~*~*~  
‘Blaine?’ Warmly dressed and having made some attempt to control his bed hair, Kurt clattered down their impressive staircase in search of his fiancée.

‘You’ll need a coat and shoes,’ Blaine said, emerging from the cupboard under the stairs with thick, white candles and extra long matches. ‘I’m nearly ready.’

‘Ready for what?’ Kurt asked, confused. ‘Why have you got the emergency candles? What are we doing?’

Blaine just grinned at him and carried the candles out to the deck.

‘What are we doing on the deck?’ Kurt called. There was no response. ‘Only one way to find out,’ Kurt muttered, and began pulling on his outerwear.

When he emerged onto the deck, he found that Blaine had pushed back all the chairs and tables again to create a clear space in the middle. Right in the centre of this space, he had placed a battered red toboggan that they had found in the cupboard when they moved in. He was placing the emergency candles in a rough circle about the toboggan. Kurt smirked.

‘We’re actually going to light candles around the toboggan and beg for mercy?’ he asked.

‘Don’t mock the established ritual,’ Blaine said, not quite controlling the smile that threatened to break through his solemn attitude.

‘Established by _Calvin and Hobbes_ ,’ Kurt retorted.

Blaine smiled at him. ‘Dissenter. Get over here and help me light these candles.’

Kurt grinned and knelt on the other side of the toboggan. Blaine handed him a lit match and Kurt began to light the candles on his side as Blaine did the same on the other side of the toboggan.

‘What now?’ Kurt asked, once all the candles were lit and they had extinguished their matches.

Blaine looked at him intensely. ‘Now we pray.’ Reaching out, he took both of Kurt’s hands and held them in his own across the toboggan, careful to keep them away from the candle flames. ‘Oh, great snow gods,’ he intoned, his head bowed and eyes closed. Kurt closed his own eyes and tried not to laugh. ‘Perpetuators of Precipitation, Bringers of Blizzards, Senders of Snow, we call to you.’ Despite his deep, sepulchral tones, Kurt was beginning to think Blaine only had his eyes closed so he wouldn’t start laughing. ‘Bless this land with a mantle of white to celebrate the coming together of family, the reuniting of friends, and the celebration of kinship. This we pray,’ he said quietly and released Kurt’s hands.

Kurt opened his eyes to find Blaine grinning at him across the flickering flames. ‘And now we wait,’ he said. Kurt stared at Blaine as he began to blow out the candles.

‘You’re insane,’ he said quietly. Blaine shrugged good-naturedly and started to gather up the candles. Kurt leant over the toboggan and placed on hand on Blaine’s arm. Blaine paused and looked up to find Kurt smiling softly at him. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Don’t thank me till it works,’ Blaine said, smiling.

‘No,’ Kurt said, holding Blaine in place. ‘Even if it doesn’t work, thank you.’ He leant closer and kissed Blaine deeply.

‘Help me round up these candles, huh?’ Blaine said, as they parted. Kurt nodded, and reached for the nearest candle.  
~*~*~

_December the nineteenth_

‘It’s still not snowing,’ Kurt observed, leaning against Blaine as they stared out the window.

‘But it _has_ stopped raining,’ Blaine pointed out, stroking Kurt’s back as they spoke.

‘And we even have some frost,’ Kurt conceded, ‘which means, we can make ice lanterns.’ He smiled at Blaine.

‘Great!’ Blaine said happily. ‘You get the jelly moulds, I’ll get the foliage.’  
~*~*~  
‘ _Ice, ice, baby_ ,’ Kurt sang quietly, as he retrieved the two, large ring-shaped jelly moulds he had brought with him from New York. ‘ _Vanilla Ice, ice, baby_.’ Setting the moulds on the island, he collected a large jug from another cupboard and began to fill it with cold water.

‘Okay,’ Blaine called, quickly shutting the back door behind him as he came in carrying Kurt’s wicker basket, ‘foliage acquired.’

‘Holly berries?’ Kurt asked, turning off the tap and carefully carrying the jug over to the island.

‘Check,’ Blaine said, slinging the basket over one arm and grabbing the moulds with the other.

‘Holly _leaves_?’ Kurt asked, pulling on his jacket.

‘Check,’ Blaine said, as Kurt pulled on his boots.

‘Ivy leaves?’ Kurt asked, returning to the island to fetch the large jug of water.

‘Check,’ Blaine said, crossing to the front door to hold it open as Kurt carefully carried the jug out onto the front porch.

Outside, Blaine set the wicker basket on the porch and laid the jelly moulds out on either side of one step, carefully arranging them to make sure they were flat. He then gestured for Kurt to fill up one of the moulds. When the mould was full, Kurt went back into the house to fill the jug again, and Blaine began to add his trimmings to the full mould.

‘ _Ice, ice, baby_ ,’ he sang, as he worked. ‘ _Vanilla Ice, ice, baby_.’

‘Second lantern coming up,’ Kurt called, carrying the refilled jug out onto the porch. Crouching on the top step, he filled the mould with cold water and then set the jug on the porch. Blaine handed him the rest of the trimmings.

‘Right,’ Kurt said, brushing his hands on his jeans once he was happy with his lantern. ‘if this weather holds, they should be ready by the time Finn and Rachel get here,’ he said.

‘Perfect,’ Blaine said, smiling at him.  
~*~*~

_December the twenty-third_

‘Coo-ee,’ Rachel called, stepping into the front room and peering around. The only light in the room came from the fire glowing dully in the living room and there was no sound except the smooth croon of Bing Crosby quietly singing _A Holly, Jolly Christmas_. As Finn followed her into the room, there was a soft rustle from in front of the fireplace, and Blaine slowly stood up. Rachel smiled warmly. ‘Hi,’ she whispered, responding to Blaine’s gesture for quiet.

‘Hi,’ Blaine said softly, crossing the room to hug them both. ‘Sorry, he’s been running about all day, cooking anything that can be frozen for later, baking biscuits to take with us, re-packing the suitcases-’

‘Still can’t pack those right, huh?’ Finn asked ruefully.

‘I’m getting better,’ Blaine murmured. ‘He only tutted twice and he didn’t move the presents at all.’

‘Progress,’ Finn said, bumping his fist against Blaine’s. ‘So he’s asleep?’ he said, gesturing to the couch.

‘Yeah, he crashed out about twenty minutes ago when I finally got him to sit down.’

‘What are you saying about me?’ Kurt murmured, yawning and stretching as he sat up on the couch.

‘I said,’ Blaine called, speaking slowly and loudly as if Kurt had hearing problems, ‘that you need your afternoon nap, now that you’re getting so old.’ He turned back to Finn and Rachel. ‘I’m buying him a pipe and slippers for Christmas,’ he said in a normal voice.

‘Blaine!’ Kurt said sharply. Blaine looked back; Kurt had stood up and was facing them across the couch, hands on hips, frowning playfully at Blaine. ‘You know I would never damage my lungs like that.’

Blaine nodded with affected gravity. ‘Quite right,’ he called. ‘Just the slippers, then,’ he said to Finn and Rachel.

Kurt smirked, absent-mindedly patting the section of hair sticking up at the back of his head as he crossed the room to hug Finn and Rachel. ‘How was the trip?’ he asked, reaching out for Finn’s rucksack as Blaine relieved Rachel of her case. ‘You must be exhausted.’

‘Oh no,’ Rachel said smiling tightly, ‘we had Chris Rea to keep us going.’

‘ _Driving Home for Christmas_?’ Kurt asked.

Rachel nodded. ‘For nine hours,’ she said, tucking her hair behind one ear.

‘Why, Miss Berry, those are some sparkly baubles you have there,’ Kurt said, tilting Rachel’s head to one side to get a better view of the diamond earrings she was wearing.

‘Thank you,’ Rachel said, smiling. ‘Hannukah present from Finn,’ she added, squeezing Finn’s arm and smiling up at him. ‘I was so surprised!’

‘How _does_ he know just what to get you?’ Kurt asked archly.

Rachel grinned. ‘It’s because we’re so in tune,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes at Kurt.

Blaine leant forward. ‘Post-Its?’ he murmured.

Finn nodded. ‘All over the flat.’

Blaine smiled. ‘Well, let’s get you to your room, and then, I thought we could have takeout tonight.’

‘Good point,’ Kurt said. ‘We can go and fetch it while these two get settled.’

‘Or, _I_ could go and fetch it and you could finish your nap,’ Blaine suggested softly.

Kurt nudged him gently. ‘I’m fine. Some fresh air’ll do me the world of good.’

‘Watch yourself out there,’ Finn said amiably. ‘It’s pretty damn fresh.’

‘What a shame,’ Kurt said. ‘We’ll just have to huddle together for warmth.’ He winked at Blaine.

Blaine smiled. ‘Don’t we always?’

Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, more than a brother needs to hear,’ he said, nudging Rachel towards the stairs. Chuckling, Blaine and Kurt followed with the luggage.  
~*~*~

_December the twenty-fourth_

‘Is that snow?’ Blaine asked, peering over Kurt’s shoulder at the white ground outside.

‘No,’ Kurt said sadly, ‘just frost still.’

‘You know, I’ve been thinking,’ Blaine said, turning his back on the view and leaning against the window. ‘We’ve never specified a _date_ for this mantle of white to arrive.’ Kurt frowned, leaning one shoulder against the window as he watched Blaine. ‘Dramatically,’ Blaine continued, ‘it would make more sense for it to snow tonight or tomorrow. Like _White Christmas_.’

Kurt smiled at him. ‘You think our weather god has a flair for the dramatic?’

‘Is it really so odd an idea?’ Blaine asked, looking over at Kurt and raising his eyebrows. ‘We are talking about an entity who communicates with earthquakes and floods and rivers of fire.’

‘True,’ Kurt admitted. ‘So, what you’re saying is, tomorrow for sure?’

Blaine grinned. ‘Tomorrow for sure,’ he said firmly.  
~*~*~  
‘You guys,’ Rachel said, coming out of her and Finn’s room waving a cushion, ‘this is so cute!’ She dangled it over the balcony that followed the line of the front room so Kurt and Blaine could see it from the kitchen. It was thick and white with a red square in the centre and the words _Make Yourself At Home_ inscribed on the front in white text.

Kurt bowed dramatically. Blaine grinned. ‘Well, we mean every word,’ he said warmly.

Kurt nodded. ‘This is your home, too. And the door is _always_ open.’

Clutching the cushion to her chest, Rachel smiled down at the boys and blew them a kiss. ‘Finn’s in the shower,’ she called, as she retreated to her room. ‘We’ll be down in a minute!’ The four of them were driving over to the Hudson-Hummel home where they were spending the next few days with Kurt and Finn’s parents.

Kurt crossed to the fridge to retrieve the meat and cheese platter he had prepared the day before. Still sipping from his mug, Blaine fetched bread and pastries from the bread bin. ‘Do we have anything else to do before we leave?’ he asked, setting one end of the long dining room table for four people.

‘I need to put the light timer on,’ Kurt said, setting the platter at one end of the table and fetching plates for the four of them. ‘We need to bring the cases down and pack them in the car. That’s about it.’

‘I’ll get Finn to give me a hand with the cases,’ Blaine commented, taking a seat. ‘I’ll give him the clothes,’ he added, off Kurt’s look.

Kurt smirked. ‘Your parents’ll love those gifts you got them,’ he commented softly, sitting next to Blaine.

‘ _We_ got them,’ Blaine said firmly. ‘You were at least as involved in the decision as I was.’

Kurt smiled at him quietly. ‘I think they’re coming around,’ he murmured.

Blaine smiled bitterly. ‘And it only took four years of awkward Boxing Day dinners to do it.’

‘If it means we get to have thirty more years of _happy_ Boxing Day dinners, isn’t it worth it?’ Kurt asked, leaning over and taking Blaine’s hand.

Blaine smiled. ‘Yes, it is.’ Squeezing Kurt’s hand, he leant back to take a sip of coffee as Finn and Rachel emerged from their room.  
~*~*~

_December the twenty-seventh_

‘Home again,’ Blaine said, turning off the engine and unstrapping. ‘D’you know I will genuinely be sad to leave this place when we go back to New York?’

Kurt looked over at him and smiled quietly. ‘I feel the same. But, we can’t realise our dreams of Broadway fame from Port Clinton, Ohio, so, back we go. Besides, it’s always here.’

Blaine grinned. ‘Very true,’ he said, reaching down to trigger the boot release, and opening the car door. ‘And we’ve still got five days before we leave.’

‘I like to think of it as, “We’re here for the rest of the year”,’ Kurt said, following him around to the boot and lifting out one of the large black cases they had taken with them. Blaine smiled at his comment and lifted the remaining case. As they closed the boot, Blaine saw Kurt’s glance fall on the frosty ground; his lips tightened, but he made no comment. Contrary to Blaine’s forecast, it had not snowed on any of the three days they were away, and Kurt had stopped checking the weather in the mornings. He tried not to show it, but Blaine knew Kurt was disappointed that their first Christmas in Port Clinton would not be a white one.

‘So, after we get these put away,’ Blaine said, opening the front door, ‘we need to get ready for our guests.’ They had returned to the house a day before the guests were due to arrive, leaving Rachel and Finn back at the Hudson-Hummel home.

‘Yep,’ Kurt said, following him into the house. ‘We’ve got to make up all the beds, put those cushions on the chairs, finish the guest kits and put them on the dressers, and I need to bake cookies for tomorrow night.’

Blaine grinned at him. ‘Just as well we got an early start,’ he said cheerfully.


	4. A Port Clinton Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set five years after A Minor Musical Mutiny, the New Directions "family" are gathering at Kurt and Blaine's house for the first time and Kurt will accept nothing less than a perfect Christmas...

_December the twenty-eighth_

Blaine opened his eyes to the dark stillness of early morning. No streetlamp shone in the gap between a half-opened pair of curtains, and he could feel Kurt lying awake beside him instead of peering hopefully out of the window.

‘Why don’t you just go check?’ he murmured, after a moment of silence.

‘Because I know what the answer will be,’ Kurt responded quietly. ‘Frost, frost, and more frost! It’s been that way for days.’

‘But, maybe today-’ Blaine felt Kurt shake his head against his chest.

‘I checked the weather report,’ he said. ‘It’s going to be frost until New Year.’

‘Weather men aren’t always right,’ Blaine responded, concerned at the flat tone Kurt was using.

‘Just leave it,’ Kurt said. ‘Maybe next year.’

Blaine frowned, stroking Kurt’s arm as he tried to think of a way to comfort him. ‘Maybe tomorrow?’ he finally said.

Kurt gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘tomorrow for sure.’

They lay in silence for a long time before they both dropped off to sleep again.  
~*~*~  
‘I wonder who’s at the door?’ Kurt asked facetiously, in response to the ringing of the doorbell. He was sitting with Blaine in front of the fire, waiting for their guests. They were both pretending their early morning conversation hadn’t happened.

‘Can’t be Finn and Rachel,’ Blaine said, getting up and pulling Kurt after him, ‘they don’t ring-’

‘Or knock,’ Kurt added, crossing the room to the front door.

‘They just _come right in_ ,’ Blaine finished, raising his voice on the last three words to coincide with his opening of the door.

‘You were right,’ Santana said grudgingly, ‘this _is_ the only house with ice lanterns on the front porch.’

‘Makes it easy to find,’ Blaine said, stepping back to let Santana and Brittany enter the house.

‘So, Richie Rich,’ Santana said, looking around the front room, ‘I see you stopped pretending you’re one of the poor kids and dipped into that trust fund we all know you have.’

Blaine laughed. ‘Hardly, this is Kurt’s house.’

‘Uh, your name is on all the papers, too,’ Kurt retorted, smiling at the girls as Blaine closed the door.

‘Right, and it was the proceeds of _whose_ massively popular children’s story about Dave Karofsky that _paid_ for the house?’ Blaine asked playfully.

‘Well, yes,’ Kurt admitted, ‘that would be mine.’ Blaine smiled at him.

‘Wait, that story about Dave the big gay bear?’ Santana asked. ‘ _That_ ’s how you bought this?’

‘It is indeed,’ Kurt responded, ‘and the title is Dave the _Angry_ Bear.’

Santana waved a hand dismissively. ‘Whatever.’

Blaine smothered a laugh. ‘Why don’t we take these to your room,’ he said, stepping forward and lifting Santana’s case. Without comment, Santana reached out and lifted Brittany’s. ‘Now, everyone gets to choose their room,’ Blaine said, leading Santana and Brittany to the grand staircase at the far end of the room. It had a wide base that split at a landing halfway up, forming two narrower staircases leading to opposite sides of the room. ‘There’re paint charts and carpet samples in the room so you can decide how you’d like it to be decorated.’

‘Decorated?’ Santana asked sharply. ‘I’m not moving in.’

Blaine smiled at her as he took the left hand staircase. ‘Kurt and I want you to think of this as your home. We intend to have family holidays here and, if you need to, you can come here whenever you want. This is your house, too.’ He looked back at Santana who favoured him with a long searching look, before nodding abruptly. Brittany reached out and stroked Santana’s arm briefly; Santana looked over her shoulder and smiled at her.

Kurt watched them from the ground floor. Santana was likely to be the hardest to persuade, and he wanted this to go well. Just as he was wondering whether he should follow them and lend a hand, the doorbell rang again.

‘Welcome, welcome!’ he called, flinging open the door.

‘D’you know this is the _only_ house on this street with ice lanterns?’ Mike asked. Kurt smiled.  
~*~*~  
‘Mm, perfect,’ Kurt said, setting his glass down and smiling at Blaine.

‘Thank you,’ Blaine said, bowing over the kitchen island. He was dressed in a green velour suit with a silver tie, and stationed behind the kitchen island with a cocktail shaker and an extensive collection of alcohol.

‘Don’t you look smart,’ Rachel called, smiling at the two of them as she descended the stairs. Kurt was wearing a sliver suit with a dark green tie, and lounging against one of the kitchen counters as they waited for their guests.

‘What can I get you, madam?’ Blaine asked, gesturing to the cocktail accoutrements laid out on the countertop.

‘Well, I don’t know’ Rachel said coyly, crossing the room, ‘what have you got?’

‘Everything,’ Blaine said, winking at her.

‘Wait,’ Rachel said, staring at the island, ‘I thought the stool alcoves were on the other side.’

‘Rotatable island,’ Kurt said blithely. ‘One way it’s a breakfast table, spin it around and it becomes a bar.’ Rachel peeked around the side of the island to see that the front had been slid back to reveal a cupboard packed with alcohol.

‘You really _do_ have everything,’ Rachel said, impressed. ‘In that case, I will have a Dutch Treat.’

‘Coming right up,’ Blaine said, smiling and fetching milk from the fridge and pouring a measure into the counter-top blender.

‘What are you drinking?’ Rachel asked Kurt, as Blaine added honey to the blender.

‘Rob Roy,’ Kurt said, lifting his glass for her to see. ‘Whisky and Martini.’ He held the glass out and she took a sip.

‘Ooh, tasty,’ she said. ‘And Blaine?’ she asked, noticing the filled glass next to the drinks.

‘A Green Velvet,’ he said, just before he set the blender to work. ‘It’s apple juice, pineapple juice, and cream, shaken over some ice and strained into the glass,’ he added, once the blender had stopped. As he spoke he poured Rachel’s drink into a highball glass and added a long straw. ‘Seemed apt,’ he said, handing over her drink.

‘Looks great,’ Rachel said. ‘I might have to trouble you for one of those later.’

‘No trouble at all, ma’am,’ Blaine said, tipping an imaginary hat as he turned back to clean out the blender.  
~*~*~  
 _Oh, there’s no place like home for the holidays..._

‘Festive Crostini?’ Kurt asked, proffering a silver charge loaded with the savoury treats.

‘Thanks,’ Finn said, scooping up one of each kind. ‘Did you know that Mike’s going to be a dancer in some Broadway play?’ he asked.

Kurt smiled. ‘Yes, Tina mentioned it in her last letter. Congratulations!’ he said, holding the charger out to Mike, who thanked him and took some of the pesto-topped toast rounds. ‘When do you open?’

‘March,’ Mike said, smiling at Kurt, ‘so I’ve got two months of rehearsals to look forward to.’

‘Well, we’ll have to have the two of you ‘round to the flat once you get settled in New York,’ Kurt said warmly.

‘Yeah,’ Finn said, swallowing the last of his crostini hastily, ‘and let us know when you’re moving in, we’ll give you a hand with the bags.’

‘Thanks,’ Mike said, smiling at them both.

‘I should circulate,’ Kurt said, subtly moving the charger out of Finn’s reach. ‘Your lady has gingerbread cookies, by the way,’ he said to Finn. As he moved off, he saw Finn snag Rachel’s arm as she passed him with her own loaded charger.

‘She’s good,’ Puck was telling Tina, as Kurt approached, ‘she turned seven just a couple of months ago. I’ve got a picture here,’ he pulled out his wallet and flicked to a picture of a smiling seven year old girl with curly blonde hair and brown eyes.

‘Aww,’ Tina smiled at the picture. ‘She looks so much like Quinn,’ she said.

‘Oh, there’s plenty of her papa in there, too,’ Kurt interjected. ‘Festive crostini?’

Puck and Tina each took some, thanking Kurt.

‘How’s Quinn?’ Tina asked softly, glancing over at the fireplace, where Quinn was chatting quietly to Mercedes.

Puck shrugged. ‘She’s okay. She spends some time with Beth when she’s in town, but it’s hard for her; to see Beth and spend time with her...and have her call her Aunt Quinn.’

‘Are you never going to tell her?’ Tina asked.

‘When she’s eighteen. Quinn and Shelby have it all figured out.’

Tina bit her lip.

‘Honestly,’ Kurt said, putting a reassuring hand on Tina’s shoulder, ‘I think they’re doing the right thing. More importantly, so does Rachel.’

Tina smiled softly. ‘Well, I guess you guys know what you’re doing.’

Puck laughed. ‘Well, they do.’

Kurt graciously excused himself from the conversation and continued his rounds, moving from group to group, handing out crostini and catching up on the news. When his charger was empty, he made his way back to the kitchen, and Blaine.

‘Having fun?’ Blaine asked, mixing Kurt up another Rob Roy.

‘Loads,’ Kurt said, smiling warmly at Blaine. ‘You still on the _non-alcoolique_?’  
‘ _Oui_ ,’ Blaine replied, returning Kurt’s smile and handing over his drink. ‘Looks like everyone else is having a good time, as well,’ he added.

‘It does, doesn’t it,’ Kurt said, surveying the room full of happy chatting friends and family.

Blaine stepped out from behind the island and slid a hand around Kurt’s waist. ‘One thing I really love about you,’ he murmured, ‘you throw a _great_ cocktail party.’ Kurt laughed and leaned into Blaine’s arm.

 _For the holidays, you can’t beat home, sweet home!_  
~*~*~

_December the twenty-ninth_

Gently removing Kurt’s hand from his chest, Blaine slid out from under their winter duvet and crept across the room to the window. As he carefully drew back the curtains, he heard Kurt stir in their bed.

‘Blaine?’ Kurt called huskily.

‘Here,’ Blaine responded softly, peering out the window at the early-morning. ‘Kurt,’ he said, trying to contain his excitement, ‘I think that weather god came through for us. It’s all white out here.’ He turned to grin widely at Kurt.

Kurt smiled indulgently. ‘That’s just the frost,’ he said sleepily.

Blaine rolled his eyes. ‘I think,’ he said, letting the curtain fall into place as he made his way to Kurt’s side, ‘that I can tell the difference between frost and snow. Especially when it’s still falling from the sky.’

Kurt sat up at that. ‘Really? It’s actually snowing?’

Blaine was still grinning at him. ‘It’s actually snowing. C’mon!’ he said urgently, grabbing both of Kurt’s hands and dragging him out of bed.

‘Alright, I’m coming,’ Kurt said, laughing as he struggled out of bed. As Kurt peeked out of the window at the falling snow, Blaine quietly opened the drawer of his bedside cabinet and slipped a small, gift-wrapped parcel into his pyjama pocket.

‘Come _on_ ,’ Blaine said, beckoning wildly at Kurt.

Still grinning, Kurt followed Blaine as he crept down their secret stair case, past the guest bedrooms on the floor below, and down the staircase to the front room. Stopping by the back door, Blaine grabbed his coat and handed Kurt his own. They both jammed bare feet into winter boots, leaving them untied in their haste, as Blaine flung open the back door and ushered Kurt out onto the deck.

‘Now _that_ ,’ Blaine said, grinning at the white flakes floating down, ‘is more like it!’

Kurt laughed quietly, staring in wonder at the layer of snow already covering their back garden and loading down the branches of the pine trees at the edge of their property. Lifting his hands up to the sky, he stepped out from under the protection of the overhang, feeling the snow crunch beneath his feet as he made his way down the steps from the deck to the lawn. Blaine leant against one wooden pillar, smiling fondly at Kurt.

Suddenly, Kurt spun around and yelled, ‘Thank you, Weather God!’

Laughing, Blaine hustled down the steps to shush him. ‘You’ll wake the whole house!’ he murmured, smiling.

‘You were right,’ Kurt said, smiling softly at Blaine. Blaine tilted his head questioningly. ‘Well,’ Kurt said, gesturing at their surroundings, ‘this is a much more dramatic timing for some last minute snow.’

Blaine laughed quietly. ‘Trust _our_ weather god to be a diva,’ he commented.

Kurt smiled and shrugged. ‘Maybe that’s her name,’ he said playfully.

Blaine flourished an exaggerated bow at their back garden. ‘Thank you, Diva,’ he murmured reverently. ‘So,’ he said, straightening up again, ‘how should we celebrate the answering of our prayers?’

Kurt beamed at him. ‘Snow angels!’ he whispered, flinging himself backwards into the snow. Grinning, Blaine joined him, feeling Kurt fingertips brush against his when their hands passed as they made wings and robes in the snow. When they had finished, they lay for a long moment, staring up at the dark sky scattered with twinkling stars.

‘ _Over the ground lies a mantle of white_ ,’ Blaine sang, quietly.

‘ _A heaven of diamonds shine down through the night_ ,’ Kurt added.

‘ _Two hearts are thrillin’_ ,’ Blaine continued, reaching out and clasping Kurt’s chilled hand in his own.

‘ _In spite of the chill in_ ,’

‘ _The weather_.’ Blaine rolled onto his side so he could look into Kurt’s eyes as he spoke. ‘So, _mon ange_ ,’ he said quietly, ‘would you like your Christmas present now?’

Kurt’s eyebrows rose. ‘You’ve got it with you?’ he asked.

Still smiling, Blaine reached into his pyjama pocket and retrieved the small parcel. Kurt sat up, his body inclined towards Blaine, as he accepted the gift and began to unwrap it. Beneath the ribbon and paper, he found a jewellery box. When he opened the box, he gasped and stared at Blaine in awe.

‘You’ve been wearing that washer for too long,’ Blaine said, reaching out and lifting the engagement ring from the box. The ring was a simple gold band topped with three small diamonds inset in a row across the breadth of the ring. Taking Kurt’s hand, Blaine carefully removed the metal washer that Kurt had faithfully worn for six years, and slid the gold band on in its place.

‘How did you afford it?’ Kurt asked, his voice hushed by awe more than propriety.

Blaine grinned. ‘You can save a lot of money in five years,’ he said softly.

Suddenly, Kurt flung himself on Blaine, his arms wrapped around Blaine’s neck as he clung to him. ‘I love you,’ he murmured. ‘Forever.’

Blaine smiled and held him close. ‘Forever,’ he whispered.  
~*~*~  
‘About your present,’ Kurt said, as they stamped snow from their boots, ‘today’s going to be crazy and I don’t want it to be _just another present_ , so could we do it tomorrow?’ He looked over at Blaine, watching anxiously as he straightened up and stared at Kurt in puzzlement.

‘You,’ Blaine said, reaching out and cupping Kurt’s cheek, ‘worry too much. Of _course_ we can do it tomorrow.’ Rolling his eyes, Blaine smiled and kissed him.  
~*~*~  
‘Hey, it snowed!’ Finn cried, clattering down the stairs into the kitchen. He looked over at Kurt, who was smiling contentedly over a pan of scrambled eggs.

‘Thanks to the great god Diva,’ Blaine said, fetching plates from an overhead cupboard.

‘Huh?’ Finn said, looking confused.

Blaine smiled. ‘Never mind. Rachel up yet?’

‘Yeah,’ Finn said, accepting the cutlery Blaine handed him and making his way to the dining room table, ‘she’s just in the shower.’

Blaine nodded and fished a Ziploc bag of pancakes out of the freezer, _Rachel_ was written on the front in black marker. Setting the pancakes on a plate, he set the microwave to “Defrost” and put the pancakes in.

‘Wow, you guys really went all out,’ Finn said, smiling at them over the long dining room table. A green and silver runner lay along the length of the table and gingerbread lanterns were set at intervals along the runner, unlit at the moment. A large _Merry Christmas_ banner hung above the table and everyone’s presents had been piled on top of the vast tree skirt in the living room. In the background, The Drifter’s cover of White Christmas was softly playing from Kurt’s Christmas playlist.

‘Well, we try,’ Kurt said, gently moving the eggs away from the edge of the pan.

Just as the microwave sounded, Rachel appeared at the top of the stairs, beaming at them. ‘Merry Christmas!’ she called, pattering down the steps and kissing both Kurt and Blaine on the cheek.

‘Merry Christmas,’ Blaine said, retrieving the pancakes and setting them beside the hob, just as Kurt moved the scrambled eggs off the heat.

‘Merry Christmas,’ Kurt added, gently moving Rachel out of the way as he began to dole out scrambled eggs.

‘Ooh, do I smell vegan pancakes?’ she asked, leaning past Kurt to peek at the plate on the counter.

‘You do,’ Blaine said, placing a frying pan on the hob and setting a flame beneath it.

‘You guys,’ Rachel said, beaming at both of them and flitting out of the kitchen as Kurt retrieved a covered platter of bacon from the grill, and Blaine added vegetable oil to the frying pan.

‘Is somebody makin’ eggs?’ Puck called, leaning over the railing of the balcony.

‘No,’ Kurt called up, ‘someone has _made_ eggs and if someone else wants them warm, they better get down here soon.’

Puck grinned. ‘Received and understood,’ he said, giving Kurt a quick salute. ‘I’ll round up the troops.’

He moved back from the railing and they could hear him banging on the doors of the other bedrooms. Kurt shook his head at Santana’s rude response to Puck’s cheerful ‘Merry Christmas!’, but he was smiling as he began passing plates of scrambled eggs and bacon to Rachel and Finn and passed an empty plate to Blaine for Rachel’s pancakes.  
~*~*~  
‘Don’t you have problems with those in the snow?’ Mercedes asked, gesturing to the Rewalk Artie had been wearing since his senior year at McKinley. After breakfast everyone had exchanged their gifts and now, with everything unwrapped, they were going to walk to the Christmas Market in the middle of Port Clinton to take in the sights. Already ready, Mercedes and Artie were waiting by the front door as the others choose hats, scarves and gloves from the pile in the cedar chest.

‘Not with my new snow tires,’ Artie said cheerfully. He tilted one crutch so Mercedes could see the thick black pad which Artie had put on the end of the crutch in place of the standard grey one. A matching pad had been placed at the bottom of the other crutch.

‘Is there something different about those?’ Sam asked, tying a scarf as he walked up to them. He nodded to the panels that ran along the sides of Artie’s legs.

Artie smiled. ‘Streamlined,’ he replied. ‘I won’t bore you with the details but the system is more efficient _and_ less bulky than the original. It was my final project at CalTech,’ he added. ‘Only one pair of these in the world. For now,’ he said, winking at Mercedes.

Mercedes smiled. ‘Dream big,’ she said approvingly. Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the rest of the group, who were finally ready and itching to get out in the snow.  
~*~*~  
‘Perfect Christmas?’ Blaine asked, looking over at Kurt, who was smiling broadly. They were following behind the others and Kurt was watching them all fondly; Finn and Puck had started a snowball fight and it was only a matter of time before Santana and Brittany were dragged into the fray. Behind Brittany and Santana, Mike, Tina, Quinn and Rachel were walking together, chatting quietly and keeping out of the war zone. Just ahead of Kurt and Blaine, Sam and Mercedes were keeping pace with Artie as he made his slow but steady way along the snow covered pathways.

‘So far,’ Kurt said, and Blaine laughed.

‘Okay,’ he said, pulling Kurt closer, ‘so far.’

As Blaine spoke, Finn and Puck turned into the main square and stopped, awed at the sight before them. The public park had been transformed; wooden stalls had been erected throughout the park, creating corridors of snow between them, the light from the streetlamps and the lights on the stalls reflected off the snow, creating a warm glow around the whole area, and enticing smells drifted back to them. As they stood, grinning like little boys, the rest of the group caught up with them.

‘Do _not_ fill up on food here,’ Kurt said sternly, as they approached the group. ‘I have a feast planned for tonight and I will be accepting _no_ excuses.’ He smiled at the group. ‘Otherwise, go! Have fun! Spend money!’ He watched contentedly as they scattered in all directions, eager to see all that the market had to offer.

‘So,’ Blaine said, smiling softly at Kurt, ‘do you plan to take your own advice, or shall we go for waffles?’

Kurt smiled. ‘I’m about to spend two hours slaving over a hot buffet,’ he replied.

‘Waffles it is,’ Blaine said, kissing him lightly.

They ambled along the main walkway, admiring the craftsmanship of the many items available for sale at the other stalls, and sampling the Stollen so enthusiastically offered to them by the stallholder selling German biscuits. Eventually they reached a stand near the back of the market and purchased two warm waffles topped with vanilla cream and cherries and carried it to one of the tall, wooden tables nearby.

‘I think everyone’s enjoying themselves,’ Kurt commented, watching as the others flitted from stall to stall, calling each other’s attention to the wonders they had found and grinning like small children.

‘Who wouldn’t?’ Blaine asked rhetorically. ‘This place is a wonderland.’ He grinned at Kurt.

‘It really is,’ Kurt said, smiling at Blaine across the table.  
~*~*~  
After a while, Kurt decided it was time to go back and start cooking for dinner. Rounding up the group was easier said than done, but eventually they were all convinced to leave the market and they made their way back to the house chatting excitedly about everything they had seen, and eaten, bags containing jewellery, wooden baubles, or sweets, dangling from their hands.

Finn yawned as he walked along, one arm wrapped around Rachel. ‘Time for a nap, I think,’ he said happily.

Rachel glanced at him to see if he was serious. ‘You can’t just go to bed and leave Kurt to make dinner alone,’ she said.

‘But he’s got Blaine,’ Finn replied, confused.

‘It’s alright,’ Kurt said, smiling over at them.

‘No, it’s not,’ Rachel said staunchly. ‘Everyone should help.’

‘She has a point,’ Blaine said quietly. ‘If this is their home, we shouldn’t treat them like guests, we should treat them like family, and family help.’

‘Well,’ Kurt said eventually, ‘I could use a hand.’

‘So, it’s decided,’ Rachel said. ‘Now, should you tell them or should I?’

‘Oh, I think you,’ Kurt said, smiling at her. Rachel laughed.  
~*~*~

_December the thirtieth_

‘Did it melt?’ Blaine asked, rolling over to see Kurt leaning against the window sill, looking out into the dark.

‘No,’ Kurt murmured. As he turned towards Blaine, the light from the streetlamps highlighted the soft, contented smile on his face. ‘It’s snowing again,’ he added.

Blaine rolled out of bed and padded across to the window. Beyond the safety of the double-glazing, he could see flecks of white gently drifting down, sparkling in the light from the streetlamps as they joined their companions to form a carpet of soft, white snow. ‘It’s beautiful,’ Blaine murmured.

Kurt nodded, entranced by the way the snowflakes danced on the wind as they fell. ‘It is,’ he agreed.

Blaine smiled and hugged him close as they both watched the snowflakes fall.  
~*~*~  
They were just finishing breakfast when Blaine’s present arrived. Kurt smiled at the sound of the doorbell, ignoring the curious looks he was receiving. Without a word, he crossed the room and opened the front door, careful to angle his body to obscure the view.

‘What’s going on?’ Puck whispered, looking to Blaine for an answer.

Blaine shrugged. ‘I’ll find out,’ he said, setting the stack of plates down on the table. As he was nearing the front door, Kurt looked over his shoulder and smiled at him. Blaine paused, one eyebrow cocked quizzically. Kurt looked away.

‘We’ll be out in a minute,’ Kurt murmured to the person on the other side of the door. He closed it quickly and turned to face the group, all waiting eagerly to hear what was going on. ‘There are leftovers in the fridge,’ he said, briskly pulling on his coat and handing Blaine his own. ‘There’s no tv,’ he continued, fishing his gloves out of his jacket pocket and pulling them on, ‘but there’s plenty of books,’ he handed Blaine a scarf, ‘and music and you can chat amongst yourselves.’ He tied his own scarf with quick, efficient movements. ‘We’ll be back in an hour or so,’ he added, retrieving a hat from his other jacket pocket.

‘But, where are you going?’ Finn asked, echoing the others’ confusion.

Kurt grinned and pulled his hat on. ‘Blaine’s present is here,’ he said mysteriously. Checking that Blaine was appropriately dressed, he opened the door and gestured for Blaine to precede him.

‘You’re really enjoying this,’ Blaine said, over his shoulder, as he stepped out onto the porch. Kurt said nothing, waiting for Blaine to notice his present standing at the end of their drive. Blaine looked around as Kurt shut the door behind them, and stopped in his tracks. There, outside their house, looking particularly incongruous next to all the trucks and people carriers parked in front of the house, was a beautifully carved, life-sized, wooden sleigh. It was painted a warm green with gold designs across it. Long, metal runners were fastened to the bottom, and a smiling, middle-aged man was holding the reins for two sleek, black horses. As Blaine stared, awestruck, the horses stamped in the snow and tossed their heads, their breath showing as pale white clouds in the cold winter air.

‘It’s not exactly a diamond engagement ring,’ Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s hand, ‘but it sure beats a pair of socks!’

Blaine stared, stunned, at Kurt. ‘You bought me a sleigh?’ he finally murmured.

Kurt smiled. ‘Not a sleigh, a sleigh _ride_ ,’ he said softly.

‘Much more sensible,’ Blaine said, smiling softly.

‘Do you like it?’ Kurt asked, watching Blaine closely.

Blaine laughed. ‘Are you crazy? It’s amazing. Why are we standing here?’ he added, suddenly breaking out of his trance and pulling Kurt down the front steps.

‘Morning,’ the driver murmured as they approached.

‘Hi,’ Blaine said, grinning at him and clambering up into the passenger seat. Leaning over, he reached out to help Kurt into the seat next to him. ‘So,’ Blaine asked, when they were both seated comfortably, ‘where are we going?’

Kurt smiled. ‘Once around the town, Thomas,’ he said, addressing the driver.

Thomas nodded, and snapped the reins. ‘Gee-yah!’ he called.

Blaine pulled Kurt close, still grinning as they began to make their way back along the path. As they went he could hear the bells on the horses’ harnesses jingling rhythmically.

‘ _Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too_ ,’ he sang, winking at Kurt. ‘ _Come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you_.’

‘ _Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling “Yoo-hoo”_ ,’ Kurt sang, interlinking his fingers with Blaine’s. ‘ _Come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you_.’

As they sang, the horses made their steady way past the other houses on their street and turned onto the path leading to the centre of the town.

‘ _Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up, let’s go_ ,’ they sang together, ‘ _let’s look at the show. We’re riding in a wonderland of snow. Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up, it’s grand, just holding your hand. We’re riding along with the song of a wintery fairy land.’_

 _‘Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy and cosy are we_ ,’ Blaine continued, his eyes sparkling. ‘ _We’re snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be.’_

 _‘Let’s take the road before us and sing a chorus or two_ ,’ Kurt sang, snuggling closer to Blaine as they made their way past the snow-laden pines of the public park and the wooden stalls of the Christmas market. As they passed, small children stared at them, watching wistfully as the horses trotted on, ‘ _Come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you.’_

 _‘There’s a birthday party at the home of Farmer Grey_ ,’ Blaine sang, turning his face up to the still-falling snowflakes. ‘ _It’ll be the perfect ending of a perfect day.’_

 _‘We’ll be singing the songs we love to sing without a single stop_ ,’ Kurt continued, ‘ _at the fireplace while we watch the chestnuts pop.’_

 _‘Pop! Pop! Pop!_ ’ they sang together, beaming giddily at each other.

‘ _There’s a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy_ ,’ Blaine sang quietly, ‘ _when they pass around the coffee and the pumpkin pie.’_

 _‘It’ll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives_ ,’ Kurt sang, just as softly. ‘ _These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives.’_

 _‘Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too_ ,’ they sang, ‘ _come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you. Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling “Yoo Hoo” come on it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you. Come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you_.’

As they finished singing, the sleigh reached the end of the park and Thomas directed the horses on to the other side of the town. Blaine leant over and kissed Kurt warmly. ‘Best present ever,’ he whispered. Kurt blushed and kissed him back.

‘Good,’ he murmured, snuggling closer as the sleigh jingled on.  
~*~*~  
‘We’re back!’ Kurt called, holding the door open for Blaine. Entering the house, they found the rest of their “family” crowded around the downstairs cupboard, apparently in the middle of an argument.

‘Thank God,’ Puck said, appearing from amongst the knot of people. ‘You can decide what to play.’

Kurt grinned at Blaine. ‘They found the board games,’ he said quietly.

‘They certainly did,’ Blaine said, trying not to laugh at the sight of Finn holding _Risk_ out of Santana’s reach.

‘What’s the problem?’ Kurt asked, turning his attention back to Puck.

Puck rolled his eyes and began to tick points off on the fingers of one hand. ‘Quinn won’t play Scrabble with Brittany-’

‘She makes up words!’ Quinn called. She was sitting on the penultimate step of the staircase, apparently _on_ the Scrabble box.

‘I add them to the dictionary after,’ Brittany said, sounding entirely reasonable. Quinn stared at her.

‘Finn and Rachel won’t let us play Risk-’ Puck continued, leaning against the back of the nearest couch. Kurt and Blaine took off their scarves and gloves as he spoke.

‘Well, I have to agree with that,’ Kurt said, tucking his gloves into the pocket of his jacket.

‘Why?’ Puck asked, sounding aggrieved.

‘Because the last time we played it you and Santana joined forces for world domination,’ Blaine responded, pulling off his hat and ruffling his hair.

‘That’s how you play the game!’ Puck retorted.

‘The game was over in five minutes,’ Blaine pointed out. He handed his hat and scarf to Kurt, who returned them to the cedar chest.

‘ _Anyway_ ,’ Kurt interjected, straightening and closing the lid. ‘What about Pictionary?’

‘You remember what happened the last time we played Pictionary, right?’ Puck asked Kurt pointedly.

Kurt blushed. ‘That was unintentional,’ he muttered, avoiding Puck’s eye as he undid his jacket.

‘Huh, tell that to Finn,’ Puck muttered. ‘That pencil lead is gonna be in his hand forever.’

Blaine rubbed Kurt’s shoulder comfortingly. ‘What about Monopoly?’ he asked.

‘No!’ Mike called, the Monopoly board already in his hands. ‘Unfair advantage!’ he added.

‘This is because my dad is a property developer, isn’t it?’ Blaine asked, pulling off his jacket.

‘No,’ Mike said archly, ‘this is because everyone went bankrupt within fifteen minutes the last time we played.’

Kurt turned his laugh into a cough. ‘Sorry,’ he said, when Blaine gave him a pointed glance. ‘But, he does have a point.’ Blaine shrugged and hung up his jacket.

‘Dominos?’ Kurt suggested.

‘Boring,’ Puck retorted, crossing his arms. Blaine helped Kurt out of his jacket.

‘Mah Jhong?’ Tina called, waving a box with a picture of little white tiles on the front.

‘You’re the only one who understands all the rules!’ Rachel called, trying to retrieve it from her.

‘Then there’s only one choice,’ Kurt said.

Blaine grinned. ‘Life?’ he asked.

Kurt nodded. ‘What about The Game of Life,’ he called, over the furore. Everyone paused in their personal battles to consider his suggestion.

‘I could play that,’ Tina said, setting the Mah Jhong box down.

‘I’m okay with Life,’ Rachel admitted.

Slowly everyone voiced their assent. ‘Santana?’ Kurt called, when she was the only one who had yet to speak.

Santana shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter what we play,’ she said, smiling slightly despite her challenging tone, ‘I’m gonna whip all your butts anyway.’

Kurt grinned. ‘Alright,’ he called over the hubbub, ‘Puck, get a drink for everyone who wants one. Rachel, you’re in charge of clearing the table. Finn, all the other games go _back_ in the cupboard _before_ we set out the board!’

‘Yes, mom,’ Quinn said, winking at Kurt as she carried the Scrabble box back to the cupboard.  
~*~*~

_December the thirty-first_

‘Not checking the weather?’ Blaine asked, waking to find Kurt still snuggled against him.

‘No,’ Kurt said quietly. ‘It’s not important today.’

‘Oh?’ Blaine asked, tilting Kurt’s chin up so he could see his expression.

‘It’s our last day,’ Kurt said softly. He looked away, focusing his attention on the patterns he was tracing on Blaine’s ribs.

‘ _This_ year,’ Blaine said comfortingly. He lifted one hand from around Kurt’s waist to gently stroke his soft, wild hair. ‘They’ll be back next year.’

He felt Kurt smile against his chest. ‘You think so?’

‘And every year after that,’ Blaine said firmly. ‘You made them a home.’

‘ _We_ made a home,’ Kurt amended.

Blaine smiled. ‘Regardless, this is _our_ home, this family, and they know that.’

Kurt smiled. ‘Our home,’ he murmured. ‘I like the sound of that.’ He tilted his face up, and Blaine leant down and kissed him warmly.

‘Maybe we’ll make one of our own,’ he whispered. ‘Just you and I.’

‘Sharing our love together?’ Kurt asked, smiling.

‘It’s the only way,’ Blaine said, leaning forward to kiss him again.  
~*~*~  
‘Why are we out here at nearly midnight, again?’ Santana asked, huddling against Brittany as she tried to keep warm.

‘ _We_ are seeing the old year out-’ Kurt said.

‘And the new year in,’ Blaine added.

‘With a bang,’ Kurt finished. He was sticking the long wooden pole at the end of a brightly-coloured cardboard tube into the dull, wet sand of Port Clinton beach. The beach was otherwise deserted as most of the other inhabitants were either inside or at the _official_ fireworks display in the centre of town. Kurt and Blaine had decided that something a little bit more exclusive would be appropriate for the last night of their first “Family Christmas”. Several other, similarly decorated, tubes were thrust into the sand at “safe” intervals and Finn stood at one end with a box of long-handled matches. Blaine was passing around several silver flasks full of hot chocolate to keep everyone warm until the appointed hour.

‘How long?’ Finn asked. Blaine checked his watch.

‘Ten!’ he called, nodding significantly to Finn, as he grinned. ‘Nine!’

‘Eight!’ Kurt called, coming to stand next to him and taking a slug of the hot chocolate Blaine was holding.

‘Seven!’ Blaine called, gesturing for everyone to join in.

‘Six! Five! Four! Three!’

There was a flare of light as Finn lit up one of the matches.

‘Two!’ Everyone cried, watching as Finn crouched near the first of the fireworks.

‘One!’ Suddenly there was a screeching sound as the first firework took off and, seconds later, a loud bang as it exploded overhead, a shower of green and red sparks flaring against the night’s sky.

Rachel gasped as a second firework flared, sending silver spirals spinning against the black, and even Santana looked impressed.

‘Happy New Year,’ Blaine said, wrapping his arm around Kurt and kissing him lightly.

‘Happy New Year,’ Kurt said, smiling warmly. Together they watched the rest of the fireworks explode above them.

‘So,’ Puck said, when the last of the fireworks had faded and they were all helping to collect the debris, ‘same time, next year? Well, _this_ year,’ he amended quickly.

Quinn smiled at him. ‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ she said quietly.

‘I’m on board,’ Artie added.

‘And us,’ Mercedes said.

‘Definitely,’ Sam agreed.

‘That is,’ Tina said, smiling slyly, ‘as long as Kurt and Blaine don’t mind.’

Kurt grinned back at Tina. ‘Oh, I think we can manage,’ he said airily.

‘Come on,’ Blaine said, winking at Kurt, ‘let’s go home.’


End file.
